


The Banshee

by Hemry64



Series: Original one shots [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: One Shot, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemry64/pseuds/Hemry64
Summary: Not all stories are only told around a fire because they've been made up. Some because those who've heard the tale knew victims of the ones taken by it. So not all tales are real, and not all tales are false.





	The Banshee

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote forever ago and decided I like it enough to post here. Again like the others, it's a one-shot, I don't really plan on continuing this or any of the others. Please enjoy and comment what you thought of it.

“Have you ever heard the story of a girl, who with a thought, could kill anyone in her path? A story that is told to children so they behave. A story told around a campfire to scare their friends. A story that is forgotten with time and fades into the void as if it never existed. But even so, do not be so quick as to forget it. Why? Because it's. No. Story.” 

The fear in his eyes, the taste of his blood on my lips. I could practically see red as the bloodlust coursed through my veins. With a blood curtailing screech I will his body against the wall with enough force to crack it. I could see his consciousness fading.

“Ah, ah, ah. No sleeping on the job!” Balling my fist I send my invisible force through his body, forcing him to stay conscious till I got my answers. Stepping closer, I notice a cracked mirror in the corner of the destroyed room. In its reflection stairs a girl who looks no older than 20. Wearing an all-white outfit, save for the blood now splattered across it. Her long golden hair covering her eyes and stopping at the shoulder. 

Who was she? Well, most people call her a monster, a demon. Me? Why I call myself a banshee. Much more fitting of my reputation. 

“Now tell me, Mr. Wright, where can I find the data cache?” He looked at me in terror and spoke with a shaky voice as he said, 

“I, I don't know! I swear! P-please don't kill me!” He was lying, and that just made my blood boil more than it already was. So I smiled, and in a sweet voice I spoke, 

“You're lying Mr. Wright,” Confusion crossed his eyes at my tone. Good. They break easily when they fall for this. With a voice of rage and a look intent of slaughter I yell, “I hate liers!” And with all my force I slam my fist into the wall next to his head, breaking the concrete into a large spiderweb-like design. Mr. Wright flinched and cried out in fear. “Where. Is. It?!” I roared. 

“I swear I don't know!” Was his reply as he surprisingly managed to free his right arm from my invisible grip and try to slap my face. Emphasis on try. Because once his hand was close, it was sliced off with an unseen clever. Leaving only a stumped arm. 

His screams of agony filled my ears and I began to laugh uncontrollably. “To think, someone as smart as you tried something so stupid!” I cried between laughs. But my amusement was gone now. Steeling my face of emotions I cut my laughing off and released my grip holding him to the wall. Slowly, gripping his arm he slid to his knees. 

I kneeled and placed my hand on his head as I spoke, “Don’t worry Mr. Wright, I can make all the pain go away. You just tell me where the data cache is, and I'll make it all better.” He looked up at me, tears staining his face.

“I-it’s on the top floor of the Betamax Corporations building. That's where I was told to keep it by Mr. Anthony.” He began to sob. “So please miss, please make it stop! Make the pain go away!” 

Staring him in the eyes I gave him a near genuine smile. “Thank you, James, and of course. I'll make it all better.” He smiled weakly at me as if he actually believed I would let him live. Those who incur my wrath, do not live to tell the tale. That's why I'm just a fairy tale. 

With a thought, I grasp his hair and let his body fall to the floor. Still holding his head, eyes wide open with that meek smile, I turn and walk towards the broken windows. “Burn in hell.” Was all I said as I tossed his severed head out the window and watched it fall down to the waiting concrete.


End file.
